Table for Two
by jamie2109
Summary: With three chances to get it right, will Harry succeed?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not Mine

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Author's Notes: Written for a Valentine's Day prompt fest at the livejournal AWDT. These will be fairly short chapters, up to about a thousand words, but they should be posted every second day until I am finished. I did plan to have it done by V/Day but I live in bushfire affected Victoria and so stuff got in the have quieted here now but there are still helicopters flying over head.

I hope you enjoy the romance anyway, but it's not all fluff.

What? You were expecting fluff? From me? -laughs- not quite.

jamie

xxxx

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1.

He supposed he deserved it; pure white damask tablecloth, set with the finest china, heavy silverware and crystal glasses sparkling with the lights of millions of bubbles in the champagne. Draco had gone to a lot of trouble to set this dinner up, which was so like him. Nothing but the best for Draco and Harry.

The only problem was; the dinner table was set for only one.

As he dropped his coat over the back of the couch and his wand on the table, he sighed deeply, stomach slowly but surely dropping to his toes with the knowledge that Draco had finally had enough of late night phone calls telling him not to wait up. Dreading the phone call that _wasn't_ telling him not to wait up, but was telling him of an accident instead. Had enough of being stood up for dinner or a party or even his own birthday party.

Harry had known Draco was unhappy, but he'd thought that Draco understood just how important his job was. To have misinterpreted Draco's feeling to this extent gutted Harry as much as Draco's leaving did. Nothing was more important than Draco was and to have given him that impression – Harry felt ashamed of himself.

As he sat down at the table he realised how completely empty he felt. As if Draco had taken all the life out of him when he left. The flat had that vacant feel to it, the corners filled with silences and resentment.

He would think of the most logical places to search for him and begin looking right away. "I'm not going to let you go, Draco," Harry whispered into the quiet, wishing futilely for a response.

At his words, there was a barely audible pop and a small package appeared on the table. Wrapped in a dark red paper and tied with a white velvet bow, it sat in his place setting, a small tag waving jauntily at him from beside the bow.

Unexpectedly, his spirits rose; things couldn't be too bad if Draco had organised a gift for him, could they? He removed the card and read it.

_Harry, _

_This is the third year in a row you've missed Valentine's Day, therefore you have but three chances to fix us._

_Use them well, because at the end of the third chance if things are not fixed, you will never see me again._

_Draco._

The paper unwrapped itself to reveal an item that looked much like the time turner Hermione had used back in third year. Intrigued, Harry lifted it up and noticed some instructions written by Draco on the side.

_One turn clockwise for one week, one turn anti clockwise for one year. Choose carefully._

All right, then. He could do this. He had three chances to get it right and fix them.

Draco had mentioned missing Valentine's Day, so he'd go back to the first one he missed and…not miss it. He'd only need one chance. Right? What could possibly go wrong?

Harry slipped the chain of the Time Turner around his neck and began to turn.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not Mine

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Author's Notes: Dunno why I have this section this time, I have nothing to say. lol. Oh, other than asking you all to enjoy the chapter...

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Part 2.

Closing his eyes seemed the best defense against the spinning of the room as the time turner did its business of returning him to the same day two years ago.

When he opened them the first thing he saw was that he was seated at the dining table, as he had been, but it was not set for dinner, it was cleared except for the potted Violet in the center of the table, spraying stems of purple flowers in abundance.

Harry remembered that plant; he'd teased Draco about being able to grow any plant in any climate without using magic. Draco had huffed that learning how to feed pants wasn't that much different to learning how to develop potions. It had made Harry wonder why Neville who was so good with plant life, was an utter disaster area around a cauldron. It had finally made its home on the windowsill in the bathroom, Draco claiming that the steam did it good.

A quick look at the clock on the wall told Harry that it was not long after midnight. But was it Valentine's Day or the one after? Frowning, he looked down at the time turner to see that the instructions written on the side had changed.

_You have but twenty-four hours, use them wisely. Do not let your past self see you, or there will be dreadful consequences. When you are to return to your own time, twist the time turner three times_.

Valentine's Day, then, Harry assumed and thought back to what he'd been doing two years ago at this time. At just after midnight he'd been leading a raid on an illegal brothel being run under the auspices of medical research. When he'd stormed into the first room, he'd found a rotund man between the legs of a tired-looking witch. She groaned, "It's past my knock-off time, come back tomorrow," while the wizard jumped up and gathered his clothes, trying and failing to cover his private parts.

"Yeah, mate, three's a crowd, don't you know?" he'd complained in a shaky, embarrassed voice.

"You aren't going anywhere for the moment," Harry advised and cast body binds on both of them.

Harry sighed as he remembered this; it was hardly worth missing dinner with Draco over. If he remembered correctly, they'd planned an evening of dinner and dancing at Draco's favourite restaurant.

Tonight he would surprise Draco by saying he'd been able to finish work early. All he had to do until then was hang around for the day, out of sight, and then meet Draco for dinner. And make sure Draco was asleep at midnight when he needed to go back.

To hide he'd need the Invisibility Cloak and he'd need to be out of sight when the Harry from this time returned home. The cloak was kept in a box in his side of the wardrobe, so he'd have to go into their bedroom.

The thought of seeing Draco again made his heart beat faster and suddenly it was all he wanted to do.

Turning to walk down the hall to the bedroom, he spied a vase of blood red roses on the sideboard. They looked perfect set against the dark wood of the dresser, he noted. Draco had always had really good taste and, with the help of Kreacher who refused to leave, kept their flat in pristine condition as well as maintaining his job working for the post-war newspaper, _The Bugle_.

Harry wondered why he didn't remember the roses the last time. For a moment he stood there and wracked his brain, trying to remember if he'd seen them when he'd returned home at 2am, but he couldn't remember. Just as he was about to give up, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

It was Draco! In a panic, Harry didn't know what to do. Pretend he'd arrived home? No, then what would he do when the Harry of this time came home? Bloody hell, he needed somewhere to hide.

Or a Disillusionment spell!

Feeling around for his wand, his hand clutched at nothing. His wand, he realised with a slump, was still at home in his time.

With nothing more than a split second to spare, Harry ducked around the corner into the lounge room, hoping that Draco was only after a glass of water.

When his boyfriend entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, Harry's breath caught. Draco was wearing his favourite low-slung silky green pyjama pants that hung so low on his hips, Harry had always joked that he only had to breathe on them and they'd fall down. Watching the way Draco moved, the way the curve of his arse filled out the cloth when he reached into the fridge for the water, made Harry's mouth go dry. Draco looked good enough to eat, but he told himself he must stay away.

Draco poured himself a glass of water and stood leaning against the bench to drink it. He was looking at the roses, Harry noticed. Rather intently. Looking as if he was making a decision. After several sips of water, Draco placed the glass into the sink and turned to look at the roses once more.

"Sorry, secret admirer, whoever you are," he whispered and waved his hand, vanishing the roses.

Harry could only stand there in complete shock as Draco smiled sadly and returned to bed.

Someone was after his Draco?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not Mine

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Author's Note: Awwwwwwww

enjoy

jamie

xxxx

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Harry allowed Draco time to fall back to sleep before he slipped into their bedroom and searched out the Invisibility cloak, not feeling any sort of security until it was safely wrapped around him. Only then did he allow himself the freedom to study his Draco while he slept.

In the past, he'd often made fun of the way Draco arched an eyebrow – it was more of a defense than anything else. Draco's arching eyebrow had the power to knock whatever he'd been planning on saying right out of his head. Harry had always thought it was the fear of having to suffer the scathing commentary that often accompanied such a look, but now he looked at Draco's face, pale yet relaxed and luminous in the semi darkness, he rather thought it might be something else.

When Draco was angry, the eyebrow was often the only expressive thing on his face, the Malfoy mask shuttering the rest of his emotions. Now, in repose, Harry wanted to reach over and trace the line of fine hairs, smoothing. He refrained, though. His other self would be along soon enough and he didn't want to get caught, Invisibility cloak or not.

Instead he took the seat by the window next to Draco's side of the bed. From there he could watch to his heart's content.

When the phone rang, Harry jumped. It was the last thing he expected at this time of night. Draco obviously felt the same as he groaned and rolled over, though he managed to hit the speaker button as he did.

"Hello?" came the slightly tinny voice from the other end of the line.

"Grumph," Draco replied, lifting his head and shaking it as if to wake up.

"Did you get my flowers?"

Harry bristled. So, this was the mystery admirer. If he could have, he would have growled.

The comment woke Draco up at least.

"Who are you?"

"Someone you know. Did you get my flowers?"

"Yes, but who are you?"

"Never mind that. Did you like them?"

"Y-yes, but they were an inappropriate gift and I've thrown them away."

"I half expected that." Harry heard a disappointed sigh in the tone. He tried to work out whom the voice belonged to; running through every male he and Draco had ever spoken to, which was a bit of a futile exercise, there were just too many it could be.

"Why are you doing this?" Draco asked, sleep still making his voice husky.

"Because I don't think he treats you right."

"I don't think you have any right to say that. It's only your opinion."

A soft chuckle. "I notice you didn't dispute the claim, though."

"There is nothing wrong with the way Harry treats me," Draco insisted, though Harry thought it sounded less than totally convincing.

"Probably if you were one of those Weasleys who fight amongst themselves for any scrap of his attention. But it's not worthy of a Malfoy and you know it."

Draco sighed while Harry frowned. Did he really treat Draco this badly?

"He's terribly busy," Draco whispered in reply. Even Harry could tell Draco didn't believe that made it all right.

"I'm going to send you something special each day because you deserve it, until you decide to leave the lummox and come to me instead."

Harry had to bite his lip in order to not jump up and give that interloping twat what for.

"I won't leave him. I love him."

"I know you do. You think you do. But you deserve more. And tonight, to send you into sleep, I am sending you kisses, I know you like them."

Harry still had no idea who this man was, but he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he could see that the lovely words and attention were getting through to Draco. He hadn't realised that Draco was so starved for affection.

"Oh."

"You see? I know what you like. If I had my way, I'd be kissing you with every breath I took. I'd not leave you alone to be susceptible to a dark, secret love. Exciting as it is, I'd be screaming my love from the rooftops."

Harry heard the front door closing and his heart jumped in his chest. Draco obviously heard it too, and depressed the button on the phone to cut off the caller. Then he rolled over to where he wouldn't have to face the Harry from this time and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Harry watched himself move quietly into the room and undress silently. He saw himself sit on the edge of the bed and whisper Draco's name, slowly running a hand gently down Draco's arm. He could hear the regret in his whisper. But Draco remained where he was, feigning sleep.

He could feel the tension in the room – Harry had to wonder why they didn't feel it, why the Harry from this time couldn't feel that Draco was still awake. And then he had to wonder how they'd reached the point where pretending to be asleep was preferable to waking and dealing with each other.

After several more moments, the Harry from this time sighed and slid under the covers beside Draco. Harry sat under the Invisibility cloak and watched as Draco's eyes opened and one lone tear formed and sat fat and bulbous in the corner of his eye for a long moment before gravity took it and rolled it down the bridge of his nose and onto the pillow.

He really needed to plan to show Draco how much he loved him when they had dinner for Valentine's Day.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not Mine

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Author's note: Silly Harry, and oh, no Draco!!!!

heh, enjoy.

jamie

xxxx

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Several hours later, Harry watched himself rise and head for the shower. For some reason he was angry with that Harry. Angry that he didn't see how Draco was hurting. It was ridiculous, really, seeing as it was himself, but he still should know better. He wanted the Harry of this time to decide to take time off work – he had plenty owing to him – and spend the day with Draco reminding each other of why they fell in love in the first place. It was Valentine's Day, yet the Harry of this time didn't seem to even think about that, just went about his normal routine.

Of course Harry knew that in actuality he had been thinking of their planned evening together and had been reminding himself not to forget flowers, and to contact the restaurant to ensure they had Draco's favourite cheeses for after dinner.

It just looked like Harry was his normal oblivious self.

Harry removed himself to the kitchen and waited for them both to appear. He had a whole day to spend in this time - a day when this Harry would be at work and where Draco would head off to his own job. Perhaps he would sleep. That way he'd be ready for anything tonight.

Harry entered the kitchen first and he watched as he set up the coffee and set the table with fruit and cereal and juice for breakfast. Draco arrived several minutes later, dressed in his black suit, ready for work. When he sat at the table without a word, Harry thought he might be hiding an awkward silence, but when Harry leant down and kissed his cheek, Draco angled his face towards him with a genuine smile and welcomed it.

"Good morning," Draco said.

"Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?"

There was a flicker in Draco's smile as he nodded. "What time did you get in?"

"Late," Harry sighed and sat down at the table while he poured the coffee.

"Hmm," was all Draco replied with as he took his cup of coffee and sipped it, letting his face wash with bliss as the bitter fluid attacked his tastebuds. Harry always loved seeing that look on Draco's face and he noticed the him of this time was watching just as avidly.

Remembering the time this had actually happened, he watched Harry reach over and cover Draco's hand with his. "I'm really sorry about being so late last night."

"It's all right, Harry," Draco replied softly. "I know how important your job is to you." Harry could see that Draco was trying, but there was a sadness around his eyes that made him want to slap the Harry of this time round the head to make him take notice. "Besides…" Draco smiled a real smile. "We have tonight, where I expect you to make it up to me for all these late nights recently."

"Oh, I intend to," Harry replied, leaning over and kissing Draco on the lips.

"How long is it since we've been dancing?" Draco asked, eyes tender as they looked at Harry.

"Too long, I suspect." Harry grinned. "You know I have three left feet when it comes to dancing."

"Ah, but the dancing I have in mind requires you merely to stand there and hold me in your arms and let the music sway us."

"You old romantic," Harry said, still grinning as if he thought it a great joke. Harry wanted to kick him. How could he not see through Draco's mask to the loneliness?

Draco merely blushed lightly and served himself some cereal and fruit.

Talk continued between them, Draco becoming animated when they talked about their night out and Harry was pleased to see that the Harry of this time really did appear to care about Draco – well of course he did, but Harry had developed some suspicions about the way he may have appeared to be acting, like it might look as if Harry didn't care much. But he did; the Harry of this time was solicitous and caring and Harry could see the love for Draco on his face.

He was obviously just oblivious about how lonely Draco was.

*

By 5pm when Draco arrived home to prepare for their night out, more flowers had been delivered from the secret admirer – Harry was really starting to hate that guy – but Draco had vanished those, too.

And he had a plan. When Draco received the call from Harry that he was unable to make dinner, he'd wait about a half hour and then surprise him. During the day he'd already been into his wardrobe and selected the clothes he was going to wear. Unless Draco threw a fit and decided to torch all of his things, he didn't think the missing clothes would be discovered.

He hated seeing the look of disappointment on Draco's face when his phone call came. It twisted something deep inside him to see how Draco's shoulders sagged and he looked defeated. He could hear his own voice sounding tinny and thin through the phone promising to make it up to him. He had taken Draco to dinner the next night and smothered him with flowers and love, but even he had been aware that it wasn't enough. He stopped momentarily to wonder what the Harry of this time would make of it if they talked about this coming dinner…

Shaking that off, he concentrated on watching Draco deal with the fact that he was being stood up for dinner with his boyfriend on Valentine's Day. Draco was sitting quietly on the couch, all dressed to go out. Occasionally he would sigh, but other than that the flat was silent.

Harry was about to move to the front door and pretend to enter, when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"You sound awful, what's wrong?"

Harry strained to hear the tiny voice coming through the phone, but he didn't recognise it."

"Who are you?" Draco asked tiredly. The secret admirer then, Harry thought, eyes narrowing.

"Have dinner with me and I'll tell you."

"I'm not having dinner with you. I have a boyfriend, I don't do blind dates."

"And where is this boyfriend of yours on Valentine's Day? He should be showering you with love and attention."

"He's working," Draco whispered.

"So, have dinner with me. No strings attached, I promise. We will be like strangers in the night."

Draco's lip quirked and it made Harry angry to see that a stranger could make Draco smile at a time like this.

"Except that I am not a stranger to you."

"I know. I'd very much like to make that mutual."

"Mutual strangers?" Draco was smiling and Harry had a sudden flash of heat in his face and stomach. Draco was flirting! It was subtle, but it was there.

"Mutual something else, perhaps," the stranger responded, amused. "Where were you and lover boy planning on having dinner?"

"La Petite Maison," Draco replied.

"Your favourite restaurant if I am not mistaken."

"How did you know that? Been checking up on me?"

"I told you, I know you. Be there in ten minutes."

Harry heard the audible click to indicate that the stranger had hung up. To say he was shocked would have been an understatement.

Stunned might have been a better word, considering that it was very obvious by the way Draco was putting on his jacket that he was intending on going to dinner with this stranger.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not Mine

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Author's Note: And the mystery is solved...maybe...

Enjoy

jamie

xxxx

* * *

After several moments during which he was sure he saw their whole relationship flashing before his eyes each vision highlighted by Draco's expressive smile, Harry wondered if he was watching the beginning of the end. Did Draco fall into an affair with someone else because he was lonely? The mere thought of his Draco with someone else made his stomach lurch and burn with a jealousy he'd thought dormant since the days when he'd had to wait for Draco to be single before asking him out. Was he the one Draco was having dinner with? No, surely Draco would have recognised the voice, Harry told himself.

The problem he faced now was what to do. He could confront Draco, accuse him of god only knew what - because having dinner with someone did not equate to having an affair - which could possibly cause such an argument that they could never recover from. Or he could bide his time, find out who this mystery person was, watch them dine together and get a feel for what was going on.

While his heart cried about seeing Draco with someone else, his head told him that was the more logical action to take. And he wasn't an Auror because of his name alone; he'd grown up and learned to use his head in stressful situations. That skill wasn't going to make this any easier or less painful, though, and it was with a heavy heart that, covered by the Invisibility cloak, he followed Draco to the restaurant.

It took several minutes for Harry to find a good place to watch Draco from when he arrived at the restaurant. Although he remembered that he'd booked one of the tables by the windows that overlooked the river, he had to find a place to watch from on the busy esplanade where he wouldn't be disturbed. By the time he found somewhere safe and cast some appropriate charms, Draco was seated at the table with a man Harry had never seen before.

With sandy coloured hair, a wide smile and perfect teeth, Harry hated him on sight. How dare the walking toothpaste advertisement try and take Draco away from him? At least now he had a face to go with the voice of his rival. The thought of having a rival for Draco's affections made his stomach clench in fear and he wondered if this man was one of the reasons Draco had left him.

A few passing pedestrians sent odd looks in his direction when he growled at the thoughts he was having, and while he knew they couldn't see him, he decided to keep his growling to a minimum. Like if the mouthful of teeth actually _touched_ Draco. Then he might not be responsible for the noises he might make.

At the moment, though, it appeared that they were sitting on opposite sides of the table and, intimate though that might be - because, of course, Harry had organised an intimate dinner with Draco, not one where he was to be seated out of touching range - he seemed to be keeping his distance. It was just that he smiled so much, with all those teeth and the sparkly eyes and the pretty hair.

And what was worse, he was making Draco smile, too. A sharp longing settled in his chest when he saw Draco so happy. He wanted to be there at that table with him more than anything in the world, seeing that open, happy smile just for him and not the man who was going to be missing more than a few teeth if he wasn't careful. But then, perhaps if he were there, Draco wouldn't be smiling quite so widely. Perhaps things had become too bad and Draco would be better off with someone else. Someone who could make him smile like this all the time.

Suddenly, he wanted to know what they were talking about that made Draco smile. He moved closer, carefully dodging people out taking in the evening air and the lights along the river, to stand almost pressed against the window. If not for the cloak he was sure that the window would fog up with his breath.

All he could hear were murmurs, though.

He nearly punched the window when his eyes left Draco's face and scanned the table. Champagne. Draco never drank champagne unless he was planning on getting drunk. He said the bubbles usually went straight to his head. Harry always had a ready supply of champagne on hand for dinners and anniversaries and such, as Draco became very amorous when inebriated.

Then there was the starter course. Oysters. If there was one thing apart from champagne that tended to get Draco in the mood for sex, it was oysters. Oysters Kilpatrick with just a dash of lemon was foreplay for Draco. Harry ground his teeth hard enough to grate on his own nerves. He really needed to know what they were talking about.

He kicked himself when he remembered that he was an Auror and knew how to cast bloody listening charms. He cast them immediately and then settled in to listen.

"Have you seen your sister around lately?" Draco asked, selecting an oyster from its shell and forking it into his mouth. He made tiny little moaning noises as he swallowed and it made Harry's heart race.

The dinner companion, the one with all the teeth, was staring at Draco's throat watching him swallow. It made Harry want to punch him again.

Toothy coughed and smiled. "Yes, I saw her yesterday. She's off to India next week, finally."

Draco laughed. "Pansy always said she wanted to go and test out the Indian men. So, she's finally doing it?"

"It appears so."

Ah, so this must be Parkinson's brother, then. Harry tried to remember his name but came up blank. No matter, he could always check it out later.

"I think I'll stick with British men, thanks," Draco said, laughing.

"Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment," Toothy responded.

Draco looked embarrassed. "Look, I told you, Patrick, I am in love with Harry and he's all I'll ever want. You said no strings attached at this dinner, but if you're going to…"

"Draco, I've wanted you since our school days. I'm not going to stop wanting you or chasing you until I am completely sure that he is the one for you and at the moment he is not making you happy."

"But he does," Draco replied, sighing and placing his hand over Patrick's - but Harry would prefer to stick with calling him Toothy - where it lay on the table between them. "And it's none of your business to ask. We're not friends; you're my friend's brother and that's it."

Toothy sighed and withdrew his hand, which made Harry sigh in relief himself, as it seemed to be a signal to return to discussing generalities and people they both knew and gossip amongst the pureblood set.

Harry felt much more relaxed after Draco's declaration, though he felt his love deepen immeasurably by it and realised he was so lucky to have Draco in his life. He didn't even correct himself to say 'had' Draco in his life; he was so sure that he would be able to fix what had gone wrong and win him back.

As he followed Draco home later on, he almost smiled, because Draco appeared happy. Watching him fall asleep this evening was a much more pleasant experience than the previous night, despite the fact that it hadn't been him that put that smile on Draco's face.

When midnight came around and it was time for him to return to his own time, he felt he had a much better insight into what Draco wanted and how he could go about fixing their relationship. He knew that the next night he'd tried to make it up to Draco and as he remembered that night he recalled that Draco had seemed happier for months afterwards. He would sift through his memories and find out what happened during the rest of the year to make things slip backwards to the point he'd missed Valentine's Day again.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

Author's Note: Awwwww....Enjoy.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Harry had a lot to think about when he returned to his kitchen, which was just how he'd left it. Not that he expected it to be any different; he hadn't managed to change one single thing from the past and his heart sank as he realised Draco was still gone. The table was still set for a lonely dinner for one, and the flat still sang with that empty silence.

He poured himself a glass of wine to drink while he thought of what he'd learned. Draco was lonely. It appeared that not only did Draco miss his company but also that Draco hadn't seen his friends for a while, either, if what he'd said about Pansy was true. Harry wondered why he'd never noticed that before. He'd been neglectful of the one person who meant more to him than anyone else in the world and he'd been careless with Draco's love; taken it for granted.

If he could just get this next trip back in time right, then he'd never make the same mistake again. He'd learned his lesson; Draco leaving him had been like a kick in the guts and he didn't know how he'd survive if he thought it would be forever.

As he sifted through his memories of the year following that Valentine's Day, he added to the recollection that Draco had been happy for months following Harry's make up evening, by remembering Draco's birthday, where they'd gone to Spain for the weekend and had spent most of it in a Sangria induced haze of laughter and prolonged and exhausting sex.

He smiled; the weekend had been a good one and they'd both returned home refreshed and very much in love. He wished that he had that feeling back again - he missed the intimacy. Only now was he realising just how far he'd let things slide.

There were many instances like that one littered through that year but Harry was hard pressed to find many highlights of the year since then leading up to tonight. Perhaps Valentine's Day last year had been where the real withdrawal began.

And a tiny, very vulnerable part inside him wondered if Draco had eventually given in to Toothy after all. It would serve Toothy right if Harry used one of his turns to go back and punch the living daylights out of him and tell him never to even think of contacting Draco again.

But he wouldn't. He knew that if Draco had given in, then Toothy was only a symptom of what had gone wrong in their relationship, not the cause. No, this was something he'd have to fix himself.

The card that had been with the time turner when he'd unwrapped it was still sitting open on the table, only now the words had changed. As Harry read them through, he smiled.

_Harry,_

_Didn't do so well on the first chance, did you? _

_Let me give you a hint._

_If you love someone, let them know._

_Do better._

_Draco. _

Draco wanted him to succeed.

Harry had the feeling that Draco knew him too well and knew he'd have more than one lesson to learn before he could fix things. But that made him feel secure in the knowledge that he _would_ fix things. Draco expected him to.

He grinned to himself as he turned the Time Turner. This time as he swept back to Valentine's Day last year, he wasn't as confident of success, but he was determined to make a difference.

Once more he found himself in his kitchen, this time the table was set with his dinner, cold and unappetising. He remembered coming home this night and being angry that Draco had left his dinner on the table as it was without setting some warming charms over it. Looking back, he knew he didn't actually deserve warming charms, seeing as he'd forgotten to even ring Draco and tell him he'd be late home. In the end he hadn't arrived home until well after midnight.

Which reminded him; he needed to cover himself with the Invisibility cloak once more. Looking at the clock, he saw he didn't have much time so he quickly moved to the bedroom and found the cloak, covering himself with it.

In the few remaining minutes, he stood looking down at a sleeping Draco. There were slight frown lines on his forehead and Harry sighed, knowing he was the reason they were there.

He couldn't help himself. He lifted the cloak and leaned in close to whisper in Draco's ear, "I love you," and kissed him gently on the lips.

He smiled as he saw the frown lines relax and Draco's face become beautiful at rest.

There was still so much work for him to do to win back his love, but at least for now he was sleeping tranquilly.

The sound of the front door opening and closing alerted Harry to the fact that he'd returned home. He listened for the angry muttering about his dinner with a frown on his face, wanting with everything in him to reveal himself to…himself… and kick some sense into him.

But that might cause some drastic damage to the time continuum…or something. There was nothing much for him to do at the moment except settle himself down to another night of watching over his Draco s he slept.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

Author's Notes: Enjoy

jamie

xxxx

* * *

"You will be home for dinner, tonight," Draco said, though it was more like a question than a statement.

Harry watched from the safety of the Invisibility cloak as the Harry from this time smiled and kissed Draco good-bye, preparing to walk out the door. He looked frazzled and it was only eight in the morning.

"Yes, I will be. I've already promised that I will be." He'd sounded more irritated than he'd felt at the time. Harry could hear it in his voice easily, yet at the time he'd thought he hid it well. Back then, all he could think about was getting into work. There'd been a breakthrough in a case the day before and he'd wanted to get back and follow up on some leads. He hadn't realised then that those leads would keep him away so long.

Draco bristled in response to his tone and Harry watched him fight to restrain himself from retorting with some comment. Why had he never noticed that? Too busy focusing on his own problems, as he now knew. The Harry of this time merely let himself out the door without another word.

Draco, who was still drinking his coffee, dropped the cup onto his saucer and his head into his hands. Harry was hit with the fierce need to protect Draco from…himself.

Tonight would be different, he vowed. This time Harry would be there.

*

After Draco left for work, Harry wandered around the apartment. He really loved their place. It was comfortable in that lived in way, but also catered for Draco's need for quality furniture. So Harry got to keep his squishy armchairs and couch for comfort – especially the couch and they'd made love on that more times than he could count – and Draco got to have his aesthetically pleasing antique tables and desks and dressers. Harry's work desk fitted into a nook off the end of the lounge, and it was always covered in piles of books and papers and anything else he ended up using while he worked. It had become a bit of a repository for things left lying around. Consequently, every time he went looking for something, Draco would tell him to look on his desk.

Meanwhile, Draco didn't even have a desk at home, as he refused to bring work home with him, insisting that outside his standard work hours he had no intention of even thinking about work. That was his personal, private time.

They were opposites in that regard. Harry felt like he was on duty all the time. He'd felt like that pretty much ever since he'd found out he was a wizard. It seemed his whole life had revolved around this type of thing. He wasn't sure he knew how to be any different, and he did important work. Work that enabled people like Draco to be able to sleep soundly in their beds each night. It was necessary. Someone had to do it.

Later, when Draco returned home, he watched as the meal for the evening was prepared, the table set and Draco dressed ready for an intimate, romantic dinner with Harry. Sounds of their favourite music playing made Harry close his eyes and imagine holding Draco in his arms and dancing – swaying - together.

His imagination was ruined by the interruption of the phone ringing. When Harry looked at his watch he knew it must be his secretary ringing to tell Draco that Harry wasn't going to be home. He'd been stuck out in the middle of nowhere and used the excuse that he was at an important stage in the investigation to cover the fact that he just could not face Draco's temper or his silence at once again standing him up, so he'd had Tabitha do it.

The sight of Draco's reaction made him feel about as small as a rat. And about as distasteful. How could he have done that?

Draco waved his hand and the music stopped immediately. He went and blew out the candles on the table, recorked the wine and put it back in the fridge and then picked up a small gift that had been sitting on the table and hid it away in the back of a cupboard in the kitchen.

Harry could see Draco's set jaw; signifying he was angry, but when Draco turned and Harry got a glimpse of his eyes, hurt was the dominant emotion filling them. Draco was hurt and angry and Harry didn't blame him one bit.

He recalled so many times in the coming year that he'd been working late, away off chasing yet another clue in some godforsaken place that no one had ever heard of, just in case some Voldemort wanna-be decided he wanted to follow in his footsteps. Not one clue had ever led anywhere. As far as his superiors were concerned there was no Dark Lord hiding in the far reaches of the world.

Harry could never be quite so sure. Trusting the Ministry on this seemed too large a task.

But he could fix this now, just whip off the Invisibility cloak, tell Draco that he'd had Tabitha call so as he could surprise him instead, and then enjoy his intimate evening at home on Valentine's Day with his boyfriend.

In fact, he was just about to when the doorbell rang.

Harry immediately scowled and, because it was fresh in his mind from the last Valentine's Day he'd spied on, he wondered if Toothy had progressed from telephone calls to home visits. He almost growled, in fact, he was sure a sound emerged before he managed to hold himself back. If it was Toothy at the door then he would definitely reveal himself this time. No two ways about it.

However, his anger evaporated when he saw it was the other Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. They were all right – well as all right as two Slytherins who still actively disliked Harry were ever going to get. At least neither of those two were after his Draco. He didn't think.

It was wonderful to see the smile come back into Draco's eyes when he saw his friends and he quickly invited them inside.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Keeping you company of course."

"But it's Valentine's Day."

"Draco, darling," Pansy said, throwing herself down into an armchair. "What does that have to do with anything? Blaise and I are single at the moment and we wanted to share this night with you."

"But I might have plans with Harry," Draco protested.

"Do you?" Blaise asked, obviously not even caring.

"Well I did until a few moments ago," Draco admitted, taking a seat on the couch beside Blaise.

"You see? We know Potter too well,' Pansy drawled, giving Draco an impish grin.

Draco, who could never resist Pansy when she was like that, grinned. "Fine. You can get your own drinks, though. There's a half decent wine in the fridge."

Pansy made a face at him and stood, moving into the kitchen to get the wine and glasses.

"So, Potter is working again?" Blaise asked.

Draco nodded. "As always."

Harry frowned. He didn't _always_ work.

"Surely, he doesn't always work?" Blaise voiced as if he'd read Harry's mind.

"Feels like it," Draco replied, frowning.

"Well, he's a goody-goody Gryffindor golden boy, what else do you expect?"

"Yes, he does very important work," Draco said, pulling himself together. "I can't complain; he's doing things that make it safer for all of us."

Pansy arrived back in the room with the glasses and the bottle and poured them all a drink.

"You'd be better off without him, Draco. Spend some time playing footloose for a while. Between us we could cut a swathe through all the men in Mumbai, available or otherwise."

"Come on, Pans, you know that's not my style."

"It used to be," Blaise retorted. "Until Potter got his claws – and other things – into you."

"Well, I've changed. I love him."

"But too often I see you these days and you just don't look like yourself. You're hurting."

"Is this an intervention or something," Draco asked angrily.

"No, I just want you to be happy," Blaise said.

"You're not the only one who feels that way," Pansy said pointedly to Blaise. "Although I have a much better way of dealing with it.' She smirked.

"What's that?" Draco looked at her tiredly.

She held up the wine glass. "Let's get sloshed."

And they did. Amidst lots of laughter and several bottles of wine, Harry watched as Draco's friends slowly bought the animation back into his face. Watched as Draco's worry lines faded and became smile lines and he smiled when he saw Draco kick them out the door a few hours later when all the wine had been drunk and they were falling over themselves barely able to stand up.

There went another chance at changing things, Harry lamented as he heard the clock begin to chime midnight.

But he had learned something else. It wasn't only that Harry didn't pay Draco enough attention, it was that Harry's job was consuming him and their relationship and if he didn't do something about that as well, then no amount of telling and showing Draco that he loved him would fix it.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

Author's Note: Poor Harry, can't seem to get it right, can he? He has one last chance.

This is the second last chapter - will post the last one tomorrow for you. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Perhaps he wasn't meant to be changing things from so long ago, Harry thought when he found himself back at the table set for one in his own time. Perhaps he was meant to be learning something from those two Valentine's Days so he got to do this one right. But how was he supposed to get this one right when the options on the Time Turner were going back by year or week, not days or hours where he could just change the last day?

He'd have to go back a week, then.

A week ago today didn't immediately stand out in Harry's memory as a memorable one and he had to think hard, retracing his days back through what he now saw as resentful silences and repressed emotions until he sighed finally remembering the argument they'd had which had caused them.

While he had no desire to relive the argument – as much for the fact that he was fairly sure he'd now see it in an entirely different way, one certain to show him in an unflattering light, as it was for the fact that he already had quite clear memories of it – he knew he was going to have to.

As he turned the Time Turner to go back one week, he recalled details of the day. He'd had a rare evening free the night before and they'd spent it in relative relaxation as Hermione and Ron had been over for dinner. There'd been barely a sarcastic comment made by anyone, although Harry knew very well Ron would be just as happy if he dumped Draco. Just as he knew Draco would rather not have to put up with the little snide digs both Hermione and Ron made about their relationship, but he did it because he loved Harry and wanted him happy. Just like Harry put up with Parkinson and Zabini for Draco.

Their lovemaking had been rough and fast that night, as Draco tended to want to make sure Harry knew who he belonged to after a night of attempts to drive a wedge between them. Which suited Harry fine; he loved how passionate it made Draco, how desperate he was to reaffirm that they were together. Harry was usually the same after a night with Draco's friends.

It was later as they dozed, properly sexually sated, that the problems began.

Harry quietly padded to the bedroom and stood listening outside the open door, seeing as he couldn't get to the wardrobe for the Invisibility cloak. A peek inside showed the two of them in bed, Harry's arm curled around Draco's shoulder stroking his hair while Draco rested against his chest.

"What will we do for Valentine's Day this year?" Draco asked. "Assuming you won't have to work, that is." Even Harry could hear the bitterness in that last statement. Harry remembered that in post coital bliss, he'd felt magnanimous and benevolent and prepared to give Draco the world if he wanted it.

"I'm sure I can organise some time off to make sure you have a lovely evening."

Draco sighed. "If only I could believe that."

Harry watched himself frown. "What do you mean?"

"You've managed to break our dates for the last two Valentine's Days in a row after promising to be there. Why should this one be any different?"

"Because I said so," Harry replied, relaxing and smiling indulgently at Draco. Harry could have kicked him – himself - for being so condescending.

Draco rolled away from Harry, lips pursed. "Well, it's a pity that I can't trust what you say anymore."

Harry sat up, a frown on his face again. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Just because I missed a few dinners my word is now somehow questionable?"

"It's more than a few dinners, Harry."

"I work hard, Draco, you know how important my job is to me. It makes me feel useful and needed." Harry could see how angry he was becoming and annoyed that he had to have this argument _again_. As if resenting having to defend himself again against unreasonable demands from his boyfriend.

"I know, I know," Draco said, sighing and sounding tired of the argument himself. He rolled over and looked at Harry. "But you are useful and needed by me and I am tired of always being second best in your life. You put work before everything and you make me feel I have no place in your life. You could very easily do without me."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Draco, you know very well that I love you." How had he not seen all this before, Harry asked himself over and over, wanting to shake the Harry lying on the bed. Shake him until he saw sense.

"Telling me you love me isn't enough anymore, Harry. Saying and showing are two different things and neither of them means anything on their own, because the actions contradict the words. Again leaving me unable to trust what you say."

Harry could almost hear the growl in his voice and he remembered how angry he'd been, feeling Draco was belittling his career and it's importance and, what was worse, doubting Harry's love for him. "You organise Valentine's Day and I will be there."

"Right," Draco responded, sounding resigned as he turned away from Harry once more and curling his bunched up fist under his pillow.

"I will," Harry insisted. Harry knew when he'd made that statement he'd meant it, too. He did love Draco, always had but now with the benefit of hindsight he could see exactly what Draco was saying was true. He _had_ put his job before Draco, thinking that protecting the whole Wizarding world was a greater calling than loving and protecting his partner. And, maybe in wartime it might be but not in peacetime.

"Whatever, Harry," Draco replied. "I don't care anymore."

Harry remembered lying there determined to prove to Draco that he could be trusted and he would turn up when he said he would. He also remembered that during the rest of the week the feeling had worn away, somewhat eroded by the palpable tension between them and the long silences. It had led to him feeling only momentary regret when he'd had to cancel their dinner, and also wondering if Draco would even care anymore.

How wrong he'd been.

This was the past he needed to change; this last week where interaction between them had deteriorated to barely even speaking to each other; where he could now easily see that Draco was feeling sidelined and superfluous to Harry's life to the point where he'd finally had enough and left.

This was his one chance to make things right. But what could he do right now that the Harry of this time would accept as a change in his life and viewpoint? He couldn't run in and quit his job for him because this Harry would only go in the next day and claim it must have been someone using Polyjuice or something similar. He couldn't speak to Draco and try and mend the chasm that had sprung between them; the Harry of this time would not change his behaviour in any respect just because Draco might appear more amenable. In fact, the Harry of this time would be more likely to think he was in the right as Draco had admitted it and then carry on his merry way taking Draco for granted and squandering their love.

Harry let them sleep and moved back to the lounge and let himself out the front door. There was no point in risking falling asleep on the couch and then coming face to face with himself and causing who knew what sort of destruction.

He stayed out all night, then most of the day, walking and thinking, heading into Muggle areas to avoid being recognised. He'd stop for a meal or coffee every so often as he wracked his brain for a solution. He watched the people all around him, wondering what personal problems they hid behind smiles that only went as far as their mouths and never their eyes. He wondered whom they had at home that they might be fighting with or loving or losing. When he saw other men about his age, he wondered if they'd ever had to make the choice between love and an altruistic, though unrealistic, goal.

He listened to the chatter of women out having coffee with friends, watched the ones who seemed too happy when drinking with a male. Were they cheating? Finding some other to fulfill parts of their lives that were missing? Had Draco done that, too? Had he finally given into Toothy?

None of it gave him any insight into what to do to fix his relationship with Draco.

As evening drew in, Harry headed into a bar. Not because he really wanted a drink, but because it seemed like an evening place to be rather than a coffee shop. To blend in, he ordered a drink and then sat alone drinking it.

After several moments the bartender dropped a note in front of him. "From the guy at the end of the bar," he said, inclining his head at a stocky, dark-haired man sitting at the end of the bar.

Harry nodded and opened the note. It was very brief and read: _ "Just a warning. If you're going to continue sitting there looking so fuckable, then I am going to have to take you up on the offer."_

Harry laughed. A warning? That was it!

He almost went over and snogged the man who wrote the note but he didn't. He had to get home and leave the Harry of this time a warning note. He could put everything into it. Everything that had happened. Explain something that was going to happen tomorrow – like Molly telling him that Ginny was engaged to Dean – to prove he wasn't making it all up, and kick him(self) up the arse. He could remind himself about how much he loved Draco and how he should be the most important person in his life.

Several hours later, after having managed to obtain the Invisibility cloak and sequester himself away from the two occupants of the flat, he finally had a long missive for the Harry of this time.

When they were in bed asleep, Harry crept into the bedroom and looked at them both, feeling saddened because they were sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, when normally they'd find themselves entangled up in each other in the middle. Now it looked like you could drive a train through the gap between them.

He took a deep breath. It didn't matter because once Harry read this letter things would change. For sure. And then Draco wouldn't have left him and they could work things out between them.

Harry slipped the pages into Harry's hand and curled his fingers around the paper, using the wand in his drawer to cast a light sticking charm. He'd be sure to find it as soon as he woke this way. The minutes ticked away as he stood there and watched them, feeling for the first time in this whole fiasco that there was a very real hope he could work all this out. Therefore, when the clock chimed midnight and he twisted the Time Turner to go back to his own time, he did so with the pleasurable anticipation of a changed relationship when he returned.

Perhaps he'd even been smart and quit his job.

Perhaps there would be a table set for two.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

Author's Notes: I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate them all.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Harry's sense of anticipation was dashed when he realised that nothing had changed in the kitchen from when he'd left to go back a week. With a sinking stomach he dropped the Time Turner onto the table between the heavy silverware in front of him. He looked around the kitchen, hoping against hope that there was _something_ different but everything appeared to be exactly as he'd left it. Right down to the table set for one and the half drunk glass of wine.

Seeing that nothing was different and believing that his warning note hadn't worked were two different things. But he had no memories of himself finding the note and he would if he'd found it, wouldn't he? Would he?

Harry had no idea how these Time Turners worked, how they played with time and the different levels of what happened when you changed things in the past.

But regardless of how it all worked, there was only one inescapable conclusion to make and that was that somehow Harry had either lost the note, ignored the note or else destroyed it without even reading it.

In which case, all this trips back in time and all the lessons he'd learned had all been in vain as it had made no difference in the end.

Did Draco now hate him that much? Was that why he'd set up the Time Turner? To send Harry back and make him appreciate on a deeper level just what he'd lost? To dig the pain in a little deeper? Had he known Harry would fail all along?

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. He was basically back where he started. The hurt had settled in his chest a little more firmly now as he accepted his part in the break up of their relationship. Accepted most of the blame, in truth. There wasn't much Draco could have done to halt the slide other than to stand up for himself a bit more. In all honesty, though, Harry knew he wouldn't have thought Draco was serious. Not the way he was, then.

He felt like the other half of his soul had been wrenched apart from him.

It left a yawning hole inside him and Harry could only breathe around the pain by forcing the air into his lungs. He couldn't think how to repair it; could barely comprehend that he had to breathe to stay alive.

"Oh, God," he whispered in a great expulsion of air that hurt so much he didn't want to take another breath.

"No, just Draco."

Harry looked up startled, hopeful and disbelieving all at once. It wasn't a vision; his Draco was standing beside him, a comforting smile on his face.

"You're here?"

"I was always here," he said, handing Harry some folded up parchment.

Harry took it warily, wondering what it was, though deep inside he recognised the folds. When he opened it, his suspicions were confirmed. It was the note he'd left for himself a week go. "How…?" he asked, looking up at Draco.

Draco moved and sat opposite him at the table, resting his hands on his lap.

"I got up earlier than you and found the note," Draco said, smiling. "You need to work on your sticking charms. It didn't take much to get past those."

Harry shook his head. "They weren't supposed to stick to my hands permanently."

"Granted," Draco allowed, inclining his head. "I meant to put it back for you to find."

"What stopped you?"

"I realised that if you read that warning you might take heed of it and make some changes, but they wouldn't have come from a place of _knowing_. They would all have been second hand opinions and insights you were working from and you'd have no idea if it were actually true, because you'd change things and not go through what you have." Draco's face got a confused look on it for a moment. "If that makes any sense at all."

Harry dared to release some of the hurt in his chest at Draco's words. "And you wanted me to go through all that, why?"

"I have to admit I was tempted to ignore it all together and just throw the note away." Draco looked away from Harry and sighed. "I think had I not found this, I might have left anyway."

"I'm so sorry, Draco, I never knew just how bad it was – how bad I was."

Draco merely nodded.

Harry frowned, thinking and trying to get his head around the logistics of time travel. "How did you know what I'd see when I went back?" he asked.

Draco smiled again, more a smirk this time. "Because you'd already done it."

"But…" Harry could not get his head around that concept. It was too circular for him. It was better just to accept it without asking too many questions. He sighed. "So, why didn't you just throw the note away and let things run their course?"

"Do you really think I would ever actually leave you?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised in question. "Seriously? I might talk about it and I might want to, but I couldn't."

The release of the pain in Harry's chest made a whimpering noise in his throat as it escaped.

Draco continued. "I love you like I have never loved anyone before, but you were on the verge of losing me even so, and I had to do something to stop that from happening. I wanted you to change and this seemed like the perfect answer."

Harry stood abruptly, his chair scraping the floor loudly as it was pushed backwards. He didn't quite know what he felt. There was a huge bubble of anger simmering inside him but it was surrounded and dampened by a mix of relief and hope. "You're not leaving me, then?"

"Well, it depends," Draco replied, standing also. "What are you going to change?"

The hope and relief began to blossom in his chest. Harry moved to take Draco's hand in his, thumb running across his knuckles, almost harshly. "I'm going to tell Kingsley that in the future I will be working standard business hours and no more. Someone else can save the world next time; I need to save my own world. The one that has you in it."

"That's a good start," Draco said, smiling proudly.

"Then I plan on making sure I listen to you in the future and not assume everything is all right. I never want to go through this again."

"Good, Harry. I'm not used to being ignored you know. A Malfoy is usually the centre of attention." Draco's lip quirked up in that half smirk Harry loved.

"I think I can do that." Harry lifted Draco's hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles he'd been rubbing. "I ought to be angry with you for putting me through that, but I needed the kick up the arse," he said rubbing his cheek across Draco's knuckles.

Draco withdrew his hand and when Harry looked up it was to see that Draco was smiling, love radiating from his eyes. One of these days he'd have to make an honest man out of Draco and marry him.

"Promise me that you'll never let things get that bad between us again?" Draco demanded.

"I promise," Harry replied, taking his Draco back into his arms and hanging on tightly in case he changed his mind, or it was all a dream, or another time varied universe.

"In that case, Mister Potter, you had better take me to bed, seeing as it's still Valentine's Day and I demand some love."

Harry laughed, everything suddenly right with his world. He had an idea that their lovemaking tonight would be as rough as they'd ever had, both intending to claim and even mark the other to remind themselves just to whom they belonged.

As he carried Draco through to the bedroom, Harry's heart sang. Here was his chance to fix things. Not in the past – no one ever made things right by trying to rewrite history. The only way you can ever change things is to accept the past, incorporate it into who you are and move forward, learning life's lessons and letting the experience shape you.

He did have one other mission, though, and that was to pay a little visit to Toothy and remind him, very calmly and maturely and not with an impotence hex at all, that Draco was taken and would not appreciate any more attempts to lure him away.


End file.
